


What matters

by persephx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Assassin Clint Barton, BAMF Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, I wrote the tags before the fic and now i realize the story didn't went the way I wanted it to, M/M, Mob AU, Mob Boss Bucky, Pining Clint Barton, also clint has a dog, also mob boss bucky for the win so it's better for us all, and original tags, and pining bucky but like it's not that obvious, as it usually happens in mob boss fics, at some point, might rewrite this, no patronising bucky, no possessive behavior, so like, this is actually a healthy relationship, with my original plan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-09-15 19:26:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16939272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephx/pseuds/persephx
Summary: ( rated Mature for explicit violence )Being in love with your boss is a funny business. It’s even worse when your boss is the head of the Russian Mafia.





	1. In the name of Barnes

**Author's Note:**

> So... I have a thing for Mob Bucky, but I hate how in almost every story I've found, his relationship with whatever character is chosen to be the second part of the couple is always very toxic, full of possessiveness and portray Bucky as having a patronising attitude towards his partner. I don't think that portrays a healthy relationship, and I didn't want to write something like that, first because I wouldn't be comfortable with it and secondly because I don't want it to seem like I support that kind of narrative in any way.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story as much as I'm sure I'll enjoy writing it.
> 
> PS: I wanted to have fun and the name of the chapters are jokes, sooooo yeh. This first one is "in the name of God".

Clint Barton had made a name of himself killing people for money. After a few years in the business, he  was deemed good enough to work for the mafia. When Bucky Barnes had first contacted him, he had been nervous. It had gone well enough that the next time Barnes needed a freelancers, he had contacted Clint again. In a couple of years a dynamic had set between them. Clint wasn’t trusted enough that he was told any information outside of a name and a direction. But one day, he heard that someone from inside was going to kill Barnes, and, for whatever stupid sense of loyalty he had somehow developed towards the man, he had rushed to tell him.

“Let me in,” he had demanded the guards. Neither had moved an inch. “Dammit, you idiots, I need to see him.”

Barnes’ studio’s door had opened and the man had stepped outside, giving Clint a look of almost surprise. “Clint,” his voice was all business, not that he had even heard it any other way, “what are you doing here?” Clint looked at the men next to them and his point came across nicely, because with only a grimace, Barbes nodded and directed him inside.

“You have a mole,” he rushed out, not being able to help the look he shoot to the door. “They’re trying to kill you.”

Barnes had nice eyebrows and Clint decided that raising one eyebrow should not look as hot as it did with that man.

In the end, Clint helped find the mole and Barnes himself killed him. Right after, he offered Clint a permanent job in the family. “I know you work well as a freelancer but I want you with me. You haven’t deceived me so far and I’ve found that I trust you.”

Clint, of course, had said yes. He had worked exclusively with him for over four years, in which Clint had found that Bucky Barnes was a charming motherfucker. It seemed like his feelings only grew with each day, and every time there were rumors of bringing the head of the New York russian mafia down, his shoulders went tight and his stomach curled over itself.

It didn’t matter, he reminded himself as he made his way towards Barnes’ office. He knocked twice and didn’t wait to his boss’ answer. Steve Rogers was there, and he was looking at Clint with a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything, neither did Barnes.

“I brought doughnuts,” he said, waving the brown bag.

While Barnes didn’t laugh, Steve wasn’t fast enough to cover his snort, but he still tried, coughing sharply.

“I called you thirty minutes ago,” Barnes said, his voice was velvety, as always, and while it was also filled with irritation, it was not the kind of dangerous irritation that would have Clint taking a step back. No, it was the kind of irritation that Barnes’ voice had started to take whenever he talked with Clint after being his employer for about a month.

“Yeah, but I hadn’t had breakfast and if you called for what I think you called me for, we’re gonna be here for a long time.”

Barnes eyes turn hard. “We talked about this,” he said, his voice as hard as steel. James Barnes had the kind of voice that could make you shit your pants with only one sentence, and Clint, even after all these years, wasn’t immune to it. Actually, the only person who seemed to not react to that specific tone was Steve Rogers, but considering he had known Barnes for longer than anyone else, it wasn’t so strange.

“Yes, we did,” Clint said. He had dealt with a lot of scary people in his life, so he had learnt to not let anyone know his reactions to their threats. “And I told you when I joined you. I don’t go after her.”

“You do know that this could be considered as betrayal?” Rogers butted in, looking at Clint expectantly.

Clint looked at him, then at Barnes, and then back at Steve. “I don’t haunt her. She doesn’t haunt me. If you guys want to do that, I won’t be stopping you, just like she won’t be stopping whoever wants me. I won’t tell her you’re after her, although she probably knows it. I won’t be betraying anyone. Not you. Not her.”

He wasn’t too keen on seriousness. He liked flirting and teasing and he often portrayed himself as an immature, laid-back guy, but there were moments where he could be serious, and this was one of them.

Barnes gave him a long look before dismissing him. Clint held back the urge to roll his eyes at his boss - it wasn’t something he stopped very often, but if he rolled his eyes at him right now, he’d probably end with something stabbed through one of them - and picked a doughnut from the box he had left on the table, before turning and leaving the room.

He was at the mansion where Barnes lived and made business, some of the other guys in the gang also lived there, like Steve, Tony, Pepper and a few others, but Clint had always liked his privacy, so he lived by his own in the city. He did trust Barnes, and he knew now that he was a part of the gang, but at the beginning he had made the promise to not tell anyone where his home was, just for protection if he ever pissed someone off - which, really, was bound to happen at some point. He knew for a fact that Barnes had another place where he stayed sometimes, when he didn’t want to be found, but he didn’t know where it was, nobody knew where it was. Well, probably Steve did know. They were besties after all.

He went to the kitchen and served himself a cup of fancy coffee. Someone walked into the room and it wasn’t hard for him to know it was Scott Lang. If Clint appreciated someone in the gang, that was Scott. He was nice, for a mobster. Actually, Scott was just nice. Clint had never seen the guy get angry, not even when a deal came out wrong. In a way, they were very similar, except for the fact that when Scott got into someone’s nerves, it was usually not on purpose, he was just a dork.

Another huge difference was that Scott had a kid, and said kid was standing right next to him.

Clint knew that if he ever had kids - which he didn’t really see happening anyways - he would not bring them into the mafia under any circumstances. It was not that he didn’t like Cassie, she was a sweet girl and she managed to get even the toughest motherfuckers go all mushy. But she was still young, and this was a dangerous business.

“Hey Scott, hey Cassie,” Clint said sipping his fancy coffee.

“Hello Clint!” she exclaimed, skipping towards him to do their super secret handshake. When they were done, they both made explosion sounds with their mouths and turned to Scott, who was smiling dumbly, as he always smiled at Cassie.

“That has gotten longer,” he said after a second, “I swear every time I see you doing it, it just gets more complicated!”

“It looks more complicated that way!” Cassie exclaimed, and Clint nodded besides her.

Her father nodded in understanding and then walked towards them, grabbing Cassie from her armpits and sitting her on the table. He rummaged through the cabinets while they looked at him. He found some cookies and gave two to Cassie while he munched on one of his own.

“So. What did you do to piss of Barnes?” Scott asked.

Clint raised his eyebrows but before he could answer, Cassie spoke. “Yeah, he heard Bucky yelling in his office.”

There were not many people who called Barnes by his name, but Cassie was definitely one of them. He had never commented on it, and on more than one occasion, Clint had caught him looking at her with his eyes all soft.

“Same as always,” Clint said lightly, “I’m a rebel,” he winked at Cassie and she smiled at him.

Scott was looking at him worriedly, but he didn’t say anything, which was wise, because Clint really didn’t want to talk about it.  “So… What are your plans for today?” he asked, changing the subject.

Clint squinted at him. “Paperwork,” he said slowly, and just by the way Scott brightened, he knew what was coming. He turned at Cassie. “If you come with me, you have to be quiet,” he warned, “I can’t do numbers if I have you distracting me, and Barnes will be real mad with me if I don’t do this.”

Cassie was smiling brightly at him. “Will Lucky be there!?” she asked in such a high note that Clint wondered if it would mess with his hearing aids.

“Not today, Cass. Tell your dad to warn me next time and he’ll be here.” At that, Cassie jokingly glared at his father, who put his hands up and laughed.

“Sorry kiddo, next time I’ll make sure Lucky’s here, okay?”

Father and daughter said their goodbyes and Clint couldn’t help but he a bit jealous at their relationship. His father had treated him and his brother like garbage and occasionally like punching bags until they had left. His next paternal figure hadn’t been much better. Basically, he had never been on the receiving end of any kind of familiar bond. Seeing these two was both something to be jealous at and reassuring in a way. He didn’t know how to explain it but he was so glad that Cassie had a happy family, even if his father lived such a life. 

Clint lead Cassie to the office that Barnes had procured for him for whenever he had to do this kind of things and let her sit in the lovesac he kept there. It wasn’t really professional but it was nice and comfortable so Clint didn’t care.

At least an hour had gone by and Cassie hadn’t said a word, too immersed in the book she had brought with her. Clint’s back was starting to protest and, grumbling about being too old for this, he suggested they went in search of something fun to do.

That something fun to do had to be age appropriate for Cass, which meant that it couldn’t be archery, or shooting in any way. Or bothering anyone with his whines. Usually, whenever he whined at anyone, that was Steve, but considering he was probably pissed at him for what had happened before, it wasn’t such a great idea. 

“So, what do you want to do, missy?” he asked.

“We can go to the park to see dogs!” she exclaimed excitedly.

He looked at her seriously. “If I ever say no to that, take me to a doctor,” he said solemnly, to which she giggled. “How about we go to the park for like an hour and then we come back and you can keep reading your book while I keep doing my boring paperwork?”

“Yes!”

In the end, they stayed two hours in the park, and when they got back to the house, Barnes was waiting for him in his office. “Hey, Cassie, how about you go with Steve? I think he wanted to show you what he drew yesterday,” Barnes said, his voice soft.

Yeah, so, Barnes was great with kids, which only made him more attractive.

Cassie was a smart kid, and she noticed right away that Barnes wanted her out. She was also smart enough to know that it meant that Clint was going to be yelled at, so she grabbed his hand and tightened her hold to the point of almost pain. Then, she let go and left the room, seeking Steve.

Clint walked slowly towards Barnes and waited for him to speak. Except, Barnes didn’t speak, and Clint was bad at waiting. So he started talking. “You’re still mad because of the stuff that happened earlier. And I get it. I told you I’m not going to get in the middle of that. Not that I think you’re going to be able to catch her, because she’s  _ really  _ good. But hey, if you catch her, it’s your business with her. Not mine. I just don’t want to be the one who is responsible for that.”

And still, Barnes didn’t say anything.

Which meant that Clint had to keep going. “We’ve known each other for a long time. And he promised that we wouldn’t haunt each other even if we were at opposite sides of the board. So.”

Finally his boss seemed to pity him enough. “Yeah, I guess I get it.” Clint stopped in his tracks and raised his eyebrows at Barnes. “Don’t look at me like that, I care about people too. I guess, she’s your… what? Your girlfriend? I just want to know how compromised you are.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Clint mumbled, frowning. “And what do you mean, compromised?”

“I mean, Clint, that you’re awfully standoffish. You don’t live here, actually, nobody knows where you live. Not even me, which normally I wouldn’t allow. And nobody knows anyone from your life.”

“That’s because I don’t have a life!” Clint exclaimed. “Everyone I know are just contacts I have around the city. It’s not like I have friends who I can invite over to have lunch or anything like that.”

“You’re basically a ghost, Clint,” Barnes pushed.

Clint took a deep breath and shook his head. “I was a ghost until I started working with you,” he said. “Back then I didn’t even own a real house. My friends are your people. My house is secret because of my own safety. I don’t live here because I hate sororities.”

Barnes’ mouth tightened at the last part. “I trust you, Clint, but you’re in a delicate position. I advise that you don’t fuck up.”

As far as threats go, that wasn’t really a big one, but Clint knew Barnes was powerful and he was someone to be scared of. Still, Clint was loyal to him, so he didn’t really have anything to fear.


	2. The Barnes of the matter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "the quid of the matter"
> 
> I'm sorry it took me so long to post this! I had exams and then I had to rewrite everything that I had before like 1.3K words) because I wasn't feeling it. Hopefully you like it! The next chapter should be up a lot sooner than this one!

When he had been a freelancer, everyone had known him as Hawkeye, and everyone had known that he and Black Widow had a tight relationship. For that reason, he had been the target of traps often enough to know that his knew assignment smelled rotten. He looked at the manila envelope as if he could see the stuff that was inside – Jim Herdt’s schedule (the same for every day of the week except for Sundays), a direction and a time –  and then sighed. He knocked on the door lightly and waited for an answer, which came shortly after. When he opened the door, he saw that Cassie was sitting on the floor with a book opened between her legs while Barnes sat in his desk typing in his computer. The man looked up to watch him and Clint doubted for a second before giving him _a look_. Over the years, Clint and he had become better with non-vocal communication – not half as good as Steve and Barnes were, of course, but good enough – and it didn’t take him long to figure out that there was something Clint wanted to tell him.

“I’m going to the garden with Clint, you can stay here but do not try to snoop around,” Barnes said, closing the laptop and then looking at Cassie with a raised eyebrow.

And that sweet ray of sunshine frowned up at him and crossed her arms. “I don’t snoop,” she said, letting it bleed in her tone that she was deeply offended by Barnes’ words. “My daddy said snooping is wrong and that we should leave people to have their private spaces.”

Barnes smiled softly at her and tapped her forehead twice as he passed past her. “That’s right.”

They left the kid at the office and walked towards the garden. Clint almost wanted to start speaking as soon as they closed the door and left Cassie behind, but he knew Barnes enough to let the man start the talk whenever he wanted. That didn’t happen until they were in the gardens and Clint was so inside his own head that he almost didn’t hear it.

“What’s bothering you, Clint?” Barnes asked, looking at him with his head tilted in a way that made him almost look like a puppy and it did things to Clint’s heart.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself. “I want to know how angry you are because I’m not helping you get to Black Widow,” he said.

He knew that the reason why Barnes wanted to get Natasha out of the picture was because she had – unintentionally – been fucking with his business. It happened that most of her personal targets were also people that Barnes was doing business with. They were all bad people – which wasn’t to say much, considering that they were all criminals – and they had all wronged Natasha in a way or another. Clint didn’t know much about what exactly had happened, but what he knew was enough for him to fully support her… well, her killing spree. Clint’s morals were kind of twisted, so what?

He knew that some people didn’t like him. He had become a part of “the family” just because Barnes liked him – they said, they never took into account his killing rate. Or his amazing, _amazing_ , skills – and that he really didn’t belong there. The fact that he refused to give Nat away, even if that had been one of the conditions that he had given Barnes before joining, just made them hate him more. Some even called him a traitor. How weird would it be that Barnes started to think the same way?

“Why?” Barnes asked slowly, with a frown.

Clint steeled himself. He had a few inches on Barnes and he _was_ a really good assassin, but he had no doubt that the man could take him. “You’re sending me into a trap,” Clint finally said.

Barnes stopped abruptly and Clint stumbled, stopping too. Bucky Barnes had the best poker face of New York, and Clint could see the genuine surprise and the rejection towards that idea, so that meant that he was letting him in on purpose.

“Look,” he continued when Clint didn’t answer. “I told you, I respect you. I’m not going to ask you about Black Widow again,” Barnes told him.

“And what you said about fucking up?” Clint pushed.

Barnes’ frown deepened. “What about it?”

And, of course, Clint Barton, being the human disaster that he was, decided to just say it and just stop beating around the bush. “Are you sending me to a trap?” he asked.

Again, there was surprise at Barnes’ face. Then, anger.

Clint realized how stupid he had been. If Barnes wanted him dead and was indeed sending him to a trap, confronting him would be the worst thing to do. If Barnes had planned this whole trap thing instead of just killing him was for a thing, and probably pushing the man to act instead of being smart and getting the hell out of there and actually coming out of it alive.

But Barnes didn’t pull a gun on him. Or decked him. The only move he did was grab Clint’s arm and force him to look at him in the eyes, making him crouch enough that it was uncomfortable for his neck.

“I am not sending you to a trap,” Barnes said, his tone deep and serious. “Herdt has information about us and he’s going to sell it soon.”

“It seems like a trap,” Clint insisted.

“How?” Barnes pressed, his fingers tight around his arm. Clint wondered if he even remembered that he was clutching him.

“It seems too easy,” he answered, steeling himself. “The man has the same schedule every day. He keeps one gun with him. And he’s like 110lbs. It’s too easy.”

Barnes tugged him to start walking again and stayed in silence for another ten minutes before he took a deep breath and nodded. “He doesn’t seem like a threat because in any other circumstances, he wouldn’t be. He’s a wanna-be-journalist who listened to some private conversations and is ready to go to either the police or whoever pays him more. I need him dead fast and quietly, and I trust you to do a good job.”

“It seems too easy,” Clint insisted. “He keeps the same schedule. To the minute.”

“He’s probably obsessive. More now that he’s gotten into dangerous ground. But Clint, I swear to you that I still want you here. I’m not setting you up.”

And maybe, if Clint had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have believed him. But he was infatuated. And he wanted to think the best of Barnes. So, he nodded and let it drop. Barnes and he stayed in the garden twenty minutes more before they both had to get to their respective tasks.

He wasn’t stupid, though, and before actually making the move to finish Jim Herdt, he sent a text to Natasha.

**I’m going to make a hit. If I don’t answer in ten hours, something has gone wrong. I’ll be careful.**

He didn’t wait for her to answer before getting into position. Barnes wanted something quiet, something that they could swipe under the rug, so that meant he couldn’t just fire an arrow from a nearing building – that immediately identified the killing as his, and considering he was linked with the Mafia, that would definitely not be quiet.

But quiet deaths were so boring… and they also had the problem of being too quiet, which would arise more commotion that just walking into the apartment and stabbing the man to death would.

So, instead of just slipping some of his Turkish powders that would assure the hit’s death and would not show up in the toxicology exams, he decided to kill two birds with the same stone. By watching Herdt for a few days he had also been able to get somewhat of a good idea of what the lives of the other people living in the building were. Jake, for example, in apartment 2B, was trying to learn how to play guitar by watching videos on youtube, and he was doing a terrible job – every time he saw it, Clint knew he would be so much better if he tried – and there was Camille, on the 5C, who was a teacher and didn’t even look at the exams for more than ten seconds before grading them. What had made Clint angry enough to wish he had been a freelancer, had been the piece of shit living on the apartment above Herdt’s. Darren Phillips was the kind of man who thought it was okay to beat his wife and kid, and he did it on daily basis. If he’d been a freelancer, Clint wouldn’t have even doubted before finishing him too. Working with Barnes, he wasn’t allowed to do those types of calls, it put the whole organization in danger.

However, nobody would bat an eye at Clint ruining the piece of shit’s life. Hell, he’d probably win a clap in the back from Steve.

So, instead of actively taking part on Herdt’s death, he had decided to go for a more passive approach. He waited on the steps when he knew neither Herdt or Phillips here at home until one or the other showed up. To his luck, it was Phillips.

“Hey man,” Clint called him as the man approached. “You know Jim? Jim Herdt?” he asked, receiving only a non-committal grunt as an answer. “Man, he told me to meet him here like an hour ago but never showed up. He said there’s a wife-beater around here. He wants to make him disappear. Call the police and all that. I told him to scare him a bit first.”

“What?” this time the man actually looked at Clint. First his face, then his arms, which he had purposely left uncovered. He had guns, okay?

“Yeah, you know. Teach him a lesson. Before Jim goes to the police. You in?” Clint took a drag out of his cigarette.

“Police ain’t gonna do shit,” the man said, trying to go for conversationally. Instead, he sounded kind of scared.

Clint smirked on the inside but kept a relaxedly-serious face. “That’s what I told him, man, but he wants to go there before anything else. I say we just get the man out of the way. But I’m willing to wait for him to call me and tell me that it didn’t work, as I said.”

“So what, he calls you and you come ready to beat the fuck out of this guy?” Phillips asked.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. He contacts me, he needs someone to get a beating. My phone doesn’t ring and it’s all okay.”

Phillips kept quiet and Clint could almost hear his thoughts. He stayed quiet and let the – predictable – man think his course of action.

“Well, man, I’m leaving, I’ve got stuff to do. Tell Jim to give me a call when he wants to do serious business.” Clint threw the cigarette to the floor and started to get away. “Fucking Herdt, I know he wasn’t serious about this whole thing,” he muttered, for good measure, as he stalked away but before he was too far away to be heard.

He stayed in a near building for the night and saw how Phillips beat Herdt enough to kill him. For good measure, the man had broken a ceramic vase on Herdt’s head. Yeah, definitely dead, Clint checked when he knew Phillips was gone.

And while he was in there, he did not realize that he wasn’t alone until it was too late and a syringe had been stabbed into his neck.

His last thought was him picturing Barnes and telling him “I told you so”. If he was lucky enough to get out of there alive, he would actually say that to the man.


	3. By the skin on your Barnes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "By the skin on your teeth"
> 
> This is not going to be a long fic, but there'll still be four or five chapters left, I think :) I'm starting my classes again so I'm not sure I'll be able to write very often, but as I haven't been writing this very often, I don't think that'll be much of a problem. Há.

Clint didn’t know how much time he had been there. They hadn’t fed him but his stomach had started to demand food a while ago, so he guessed it had been at least a day.

The place where they were keeping him was dark and humid, and it smelled like rotten potatoes. His right eye and the corner of his mouth where swollen from the last visit from the guys that were keeping him there, and his wrists were also bleeding from when he had tried to get them off.

He didn’t really know why he was there, because the only thing they had said to him that time they had walked into the room, had been insults. It was possible that he was there because of his association with Natasha, or maybe with Barnes. Or maybe it was someone Clint had managed to piss off on his own. He was extremely good at that.

Clint didn’t like playing damsel in distress, leaving his destiny at other people’s hands was too much of a risk, but he had sent that text to Nat so if Barnes wasn’t able to get him, she definitely would. Not that Clint was doubting Barnes, but he was the head of the mob and, ultimately, he had a lot of things to do, he wouldn’t necessarily notice Clint wasn’t there. But… But it had been at least a day. Clint wanted to think he was important enough to have someone notice his disappearance, even if it was just Cassie.

Well, now that he thought of it, he didn’t want Cassie to notice and worry. She was just a child, and no matter how much she thought she knew about her dad’s job, she didn’t need the actual worry that would come of knowing the dangers of it.

And so, Clint was left there waiting.

At least another two days had passed, and Clint hadn’t been given either food or water. His captors had popped in to give him another beating, and they had even tied him to a chair, but then they had just left. Clint was pretty sure this was part of their interrogation process, but it was still pretty rude.

He knew he was on the blink of dehydration. Fainting and dizziness had already made an appearance and he could start feeling the heat making its way to his head, warning him about the fever to come. A normal person could live for five days _at most,_ and Clint guessed he had been there at least three. If someone didn’t find him soon, dehydration would kill him.

It took them a few more hours but not so much longer. Soon, Clint was being waken up, his head was pounding, and his throat was burning. When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment for them to focus, but then, he was looking at the stormy gray eyes of James Buchanan Barnes. Clint couldn’t hold back a sigh, and if he there had been more strength in his body, he might have even tried to reach for him.

And then, Natasha walked into the room too. And Clint’s heart dropped.

No. Natasha couldn’t be there. Barnes would kill her! There was no way he had gone there alone, even Natasha couldn’t win that. She needed to get out. She needed to leave. She needed to get to safety and then he would talk to her. But she had to leave before Barnes did something.

Then, he noticed she had walked to him. “Clint?” she said, her gruff voice was like the best thing Clint had heard in days – not that he had heard much, really. “Clint, can you speak?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rough and his throat scratchy.

“Don’t,” Barnes said, giving Nat a look.

Before he could panic again, he was tugged to stand up and his world tilted. He was falling. But then Barnes was there, catching him and throwing his arms on his shoulders.

“We’re getting you out of here,” Barnes said, then he started to walk.

Walking felt weird, Clint realized. It was probably the dehydration, all that fainting and the dizziness that came with it. “I need water,” he said, and for a moment he worried that his throat could be bleeding. That was very improbable of course, but that didn’t really register in Clint’s dry brain.

“When we get out of here,” Natasha said from behind them, as Bucky dragged him through corridors.

He pretty much fell unconscious after that.

When he came to it again, he was in a bed in the mansion – he recognized the wallpaper – and Natasha was also in the room.

“The heck are you doing here?” he asked, his throat scratchy but not nearly as had as he remembered it from before.

Natasha points at his hearing aids and waits for him to put them on before talking. “You disappeared.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clint answered, snappily. His head hurt. And Natasha was at the Barnes Mansion. Where basically everyone wanted to kill her. Nice. Great. It was all doing wonders to his blood pressure.

“I thought it had been him,” Nat told him as she neared. She got into the bed and lied next to him. “I came for him at night.” It took her a bit more to add her next short sentence. “He was in his office. Alone.” Then, she turned to look at him. “I saw that he was looking for you and figured he hadn’t been the one to take you. So we partnered.”

“You’re crazy,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “He wants to kill you.”

“I had the upper hand at the moment,” she answered. Clint still had his eyes closed but he knew her enough to know she was smirking. Hell, he could even hear it in her face.

“Why haven’t you left yet?” Clint asked. He was back to safety, so there was no reason why Nat had to risk hers still.

“He offered me a job.”

And at that, Clint did open his eyes. And, of course, Natasha was wearing that stupid little smirk of hers. He raised his eyebrows at her so she would explain, but her only answer was to raise her eyebrows back. He wined and moved to burrow his head in the pillow and only then he remembered that he had been beaten quite badly. Well, his organs brining him agony reminded him.

“Yes. You’re going to be sore for a couple of weeks,” Nat said. “Don’t think Barnes is gonna let you get out much.”

“I’ll just crawl back home and die or something,” he groaned. Now that he had waken up the pain it seemed like _everything_ hurt.

“I don’t think Barnes will let you out of his sight either.”

“Wassut supposed to mean?” he slurred.

“Sleep. We’ll talk later.”

Clint was about to ask her to stay when he fell asleep with the words in his mouth. The next time he woke up, he still wasn’t alone, but it was not Natasha with him in the room. It was Barnes, and Steve, who was sitting in a chair in a corner as if he was bored out of his mind.

Clint groaned a bit as he straightened, which seemed to wake the men up from their respective daydreams. They both looked at him sharply and walked closer.

“You don’t need to move,” Barnes said, all seriousness and no teasing.

Well, that couldn’t be. “I gotta piss, Barnes,” Clint said, and now that he mentioned, it was kind of true. He grunted some more and managed to sit up. He was thinking about the agony that would be actually getting up from the bed when Barnes pulled him up by the arm. He grunted but he smiled at the man, grateful for the help and a bit mortified that he actually needed it.

“So… I hate to do this but I told you it was a trap,” Clint said, hoping his teasing tone would lighten up the atmosphere of the room.

It didn’t.

Barnes’ face just turned stonier. “Steve, out.” And for the first time in his goddamn life, the blond didn’t talk back, he actually complied. “Clint…”

“Bathroom,” Clint managed to rush out. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with Barnes. Not then, at least.

“Sure,” and then, there was hesitation from the man’s part. “You need help?” he asked slowly.

And there went Clint’s dignity. No matter how beaten up he was, he would definitely not have his boss, who was the head of the Russian Mob, help him piss.

“I’ll manage,” he mutters.

When Clint was back from the bathroom a few minutes after that, he was surprised to still find Barnes there. He had expected the man to take the out Clint had so nicely offered him. Instead, he was sitting on the bed and looking at his hands in a way that reminded Clint of a lost boy, even if this was a deadly almost forty son-of-a-bitch.

Clint sat next to him and braced himself. He didn’t know what kind of talk this was supposed to be, but he was really bad at any kind of talk.

“I’m sorry,” Barnes said. “I want you to know that I care about you. No matter what I might have said in the past, about you not living here and being a ghost or whatever. I care about you. You’re one of us.”

Clint nodded, but it didn’t seem enough, so he opened his big mouth. “You got me out. It’s alright, Barnes. Not the first time I’ve been in that situation.”

“I know, but you expressly told me you thought it was a trap and I dismissed you. It was negligence on my part.”

“Good thing this is not a hospital. You might have been fired if it were,” Clint joke, and it earned him a huff and a little smile from Barnes, so he counted it as a win.

They stayed in silence, sitting next to each other and Clint was starting to feel sleepy. He didn’t want to miss out on his alone time with Barnes though, so he kept blinking off the tiredness.

“So… You didn’t kill Natasha,” he finally said.

“Nope,” Barnes answered, turning to look at him. Damn. He looked good, Clint thought, trying very hard to ignore they were technically in the same bed. Jesus, he felt like a teenager all over again.

“You hired her,” Clint commented.

“Yep,” Barnes said, in the same tone.

“Can I ask why?” Clint pushed.

“Well, she found you very fast,” Barnes answered, and it might be because Clint was very tired, but there had been some hesitation, right? “And you know what they say. Keep your friends near and your enemies even nearer.”

“Sure. It had nothing to do with the fact that she sweet talked you into it?”

“She didn’t,” Barnes answered with a smile, and hell, it was cute. “I’d say she seemed surprised.”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “Are you telling me that miss-of-course-you-did-that who wasn’t surprised even when I dyed my hair fucking green, was surprised because of your shitty move?” If Clint’s whole body didn’t hurt, he would have thrown his arms to the air.

“Well, I’ll admit that I had threatened her and that she did have a knife in my neck when that happened.”

“Oh so that’s your type of woman, right?” Clint laughed.

Barnes looked at him for a moment before shrugging and mustering a smile that didn’t seem nearly as convincing as the others had been. Clint wondered why. “I’ll let you rest.” Barnes said. “Do not dare to leave this room,” he pointed a finger at him.

“Oh, right, of course, I wouldn’t dare to cross the dangerous man at the head of the mob,” Clint mocked and that did gain him a genuine smile and a roll of the eyes.

“Rest, Clint.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

And with one last eye-roll, Barnes was out of the room.

Getting back into lying position was more agonizing that Clint thought it would, in all honestly, but he managed to do it only emitting grunts sporadically. And that moment when his arm had ended in a bad position that had brought tears to his face, but why bring that up, right?


	4. When it rains, it Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When it rains, it pours."

Having Nat working with him was both great and horrible at the same time. On one hand, he now had the privilege of seeing his bestie every day and not having to worry about her live all the time. On the other, Natasha was a mother hen. Maybe it was because Clint was the only decent person in her life who she considered a friend, or maybe she was like this with everyone she cared about but Clint being her only friend meant that he didn’t have anything to compare it too.

The thing was that between her, Barnes, Steve and Cassie, he had barely left the bedroom. He felt useless and he was starting to get jittery. It really wasn’t a good feeling.

He was used to patch himself after missions and holing up in his house, maybe stay a few hours in the mansion if he felt like it – he usually didn’t – but he definitely wasn’t used to this level of caring – that’s how they called it, Clint preferred calling it ‘fussing’, because that’s what it was.

“What about Lucky?” Clint had asked, trying to get out of the room.

“I took care of him,” Natasha said. Considering it was how she usually talked about her marks, it didn’t leave Clint feeling better. Seeing his panic eyes, she rolled hers. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Sure. Then why can’t I see him?” Clint asked with a distrust that both knew was fake. Of course Natasha hadn’t killed Lucky, she wasn’t _that_ coldhearted. And she liked Lucky, which also helped.

“I won’t bring him here. He’ll just jump all over you. And he’ll get you even more injured,” she snapped.

Steve had decided to walk into the room in that moment, but when he saw them arguing, he just turned and left them. Smart man.

“He’s always with me when I’m injured!” Clint all but whined. “I miss him. I haven’t seen him in, what?, a week?” he made a pitiful sound that might have worked in any other human except Natasha Romanov.

She, instead of being moved at Clint’s sad noise, just rolled her eyes. “Whenever you can get out of bed without anything hurting, I’ll bring him here.”

Clint considered this. “Twenty percent,” he bargained.

She raised the eyebrow and he let his body deflate.

A few hours later, Steve walked into the room again. “I take it she won?” he muttered, leaving Clint’s new phone on the nightstand (the other one had been wrecked sometime during the whole kidnapping thing and Barnes had bullied him into letting him buy a new one).

“She always does,” Clint answered, trying hard not to pout. “Do not get in an argument with that woman, Steven, she’s vicious.” And Steve snorted, even if they both knew it was true in every sense of the word.

“How do you feel about Bucky hiring her?” Steve asked, surprising Clint. When the second man looked at him with a furrowed eyebrow and a grimace, he also raised his eyebrows. “What?” he asked.

“Since when are you my therapist?” Clint asked. “Asking how I feel about boss doing whatever he’s doing. I’m fine with it, and even if I wasn’t, saying something wouldn’t actually do anything. Even less if it was boss’ best friend who I’m babbling to.”

And Steve’s frown turned into a full ‘bitch’ face. Clint, though, had a great resistance to bitch faces, so he just kept looking at Rogers. He even crossed his arms for the effect of it.

“How do you feel about Bucky hiring her?” Steve repeated.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine. I hope it’s not a trap because she will bring this whole organization down, I hope you know that. It wouldn’t even be her first,” Clint said. He trusted Steve, and he trusted Barnes, but he didn’t understand how they had gone from wanting Nat dead to fucking hiring her.

“It’s not a trap,” Steve answered, somewhat blandly.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but before he could do that, the door opened, and Barnes stepped inside. He looked at both of them, before nodding to Steve. The man took it as his cue to leave the room, but before doing so, he put an arm to Barnes’ shoulder.

Clint felt weird having to look up at Barnes from his bed. He’d been having to do that for the last week, with everyone he had wanted to talk to, but it seemed worse with Barnes. He felt… Well, he almost felt like a kid. And if that’s bad with your boss, imagine how bad must it be with the man you are kind of in love with. It made everything weird, and Clint didn’t want the power imbalance to be _so_ visible.

“How are you feeling?” Barnes asked, approaching.

“I’m fine. I could be back to work like… two days ago,” Clint answered snappily. Barnes raised an eyebrow. “Look, I don’t know why y’all are so worried about this, I’ve had worse” he continued.

“Clint,” Barnes snapped, making him stop and look at him. “I don’t give a fuck about what the heck you think you can do right now. You’ve been tortured and you’re not going back to work until you are a hundred percent healthy. And then, you’ll take a fucking vacation.”

Clint frowned up at him. “What the heck, man?” He had never seen any other guy take such a long break before – he, himself, hadn’t ever done it – and he had definitely never seen Barnes be so adamant about one of the boys staying in the bench. Maybe Barnes didn’t trust him anymore. Maybe he thought he wasn’t useful anymore. Maybe he had fucked up too much. Clint started to get nervous. You see, one doesn’t retire from the mafia, when you become old news, you get killed, and no matter how much Clint had hit it off at first, or how much he enjoyed being with Steve, and Sam, and Tony, and Scott and Cassie. If he became useless, they would get rid of him.

He had been sloppy, yes, and he’d managed to get kidnapped, but that didn’t mean he was useless! He wasn’t. He really wasn’t.

“Clint. Hey, Clint,” he looked up and saw Barnes leaning towards him. He had his eyes opened wide and worriedly. “You okay?”

He must have spaced out.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, he was not very convincing by the look on his boss’ face. “No, actually, I’m tired. You know, all the injuries and stuff,” he gave a fake chuckle that honestly was _very_ convincing, but it still did nothing to fool Barnes.

“Clint.”

He felt like he was being chastised like a kid, which did nothing to make him feel better, in any way. His first thought was to cross his arms and just stop talking with him, but that would only prove him right.

Instead, he breathed out of his mouth before talking, “why can’t I go back to the game?” Clint asked. He bit his lip and wondered if asking had been stupid, but he didn’t let his hesitancy show.

“Because you are hurt,” Barnes answered, frowning. “What are you thinking?”

Yeah, it was a known fact that Clint had an active imagination, and Barnes had known him for a long time, which meant that he definitely knew that there was something going on in Clint’s head.

“I’m capable,” Clint insisted.

“I know you are,” Barnes said slowly. He was still frowning, looking quizzically at him. It only took him a few minutes till he put the pieces together, and he didn’t hide it from Clint. “I am not getting rid of you.”

Clint didn’t answer.

“You spent days without food or water. And you were beaten up to hell. I’m just giving your body a break to get better, Clint. No hidden meaning. You need to heal and I’m just giving you time. As soon as you’re fine, you’re back on the business, and I ain’t gonna go easy on you.”

Clint huffed a laugh, feeling his chest loosen at least a little bit. “Then I should probably take advantage of that. But Nat is keeping my dog away, so my life is basically miserable.”

Barnes laughed, his face expression almost surprised. “Give me your address and I’ll get him,” Barnes smirked.

“Sure, wait a moment and I’ll write it down,” Clint said with a fake light voice, “ah, no, I almost forgot that you’re one of the most dangerous men in New York.”

For the two seconds that Barnes stayed silent, Clint wondered if he had fucked up saying that. Making Barnes mad wasn’t a great idea. But soon, the man started to crack and laughed, shaking his head, he relaxed.

“Yeah, okay.”

Barnes didn’t go to Clint house to get Lucky, duh, but he must have talked with Nat, because the next time someone opened his door, a blur of blond golden retriever jumped all over him, whining and licking his face like he was fucking edible. It was super cute.

“I can’t believe you got Barnes to bully me into bringing your stupid dog,” Nat said from the door. Clint looked at her and saw her propped against the door frame, with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. He raised one eyebrow in retaliation. “What?”

“Nobody can bully you into doing anything,” he said. “You’re the Black Widow, dude, people tremble at the sound of your name. You bully people into doing stuff. You bully me on daily basis.”

She started smirking before walking towards his bed. She didn’t sit because as soon as she got close enough to the bed, Lucky was panting up at her as if she held the world. What a marvelous dog. Natasha, though, didn’t seem to think the same, judging by the look she gave him.

“So… He’s as smitten with you as you are with him?” She said, crossing her arms and ignoring Lucky as much as she could.

Clint looked up at her, his hands buried in Lucky’s fur. “There’s no smitten…ness.”

“Yes. Right.”

“There’s not.”

“Clint. I’ve seen you look at him. And I’ve seen you look at other people. Like your exes. Like the pizza delivery guy.” Natasha was using her ‘no-bullshit’ voice. Clint didn’t exactly like that voice, but she used it with him so much that he was used to it. That was probably the reason why he didn’t like it.

“I do not look at Barnes like I look at the pizza delivery guy,” he denied quickly.

Natasha raised her eyebrow again. “You are not denying the ex part.”

Clint pursed his lips and squinted. “We both know I can’t deny that part,” he gave her a fake closed-lip smile.

She smirked.

“I really do not want to have this conversation,” Clint all but whined.

“I really don’t care,” she countered. “You didn’t tell me about it.”

Clint didn’t tell her everything that happened in his life, but it was true that he liked to whine to her about his problems, but that didn’t mean he told her everything. He didn’t talk about his feelings, mainly because he hated talking about his feelings.

“Why would I tell you I have feelings for someone who wanted to kill you?” he said, instead of admitting that he was not the best at being an adult.

“Because I didn’t want to kill him. There’s no reason for me to not know this,” she answered.

“My privacy?” Clint suggested conversationally.

“If you like him why haven’t you asked him out already?” she asked.

Clint turned his eyes to the dog, who also turned to him. He stayed silent for a minute, just scratching Lucky behind the ears. “Maybe because he’s my boss. And the head of the mafia. And while I don’t think of anyone as particularly homophobic, this is still the mob. And we’re not even taking into account the fact that it’s obvious that Barnes doesn’t feel anything for me, he has never showed any sign of thinking of me that way. You’d think that he would have made a move or something in all the years that we’ve worked together.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off of Lucky and in the end, he had rushed through his monologue, talking as fast as he could.

“That’s dumb,” Natasha mumbled, and just by her voice, he could tell that she was not smiling, contrary to other times she had said those words.

“Maybe not so much,” someone that definitely wasn’t Natasha said. Clint looked up so fast that he could have broke his neck, only to see the one and only James Buchanan Barnes, propped against the door. Clint’s heart stopped.


	5. No pain, no Barnes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No pain, no gain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a LONG time to post this chapter, I'm sorry but for some reason I got stuck and I had to rewrite some parts and I don't know, it's a bit of a mess.
> 
> I've also realized that this has gone on a different path than the one I had planned and I might rewrite it/write another mob!bucky fic soon with what I had originally imagined - so basically, more about their relationship than how the got together? maybe it'd be a second part to this? idk yet - but I'm definitelly finishing this one and leaving it posted here.
> 
> Also, in my original planning, this was going to be 6 chapters long, but I haven't written the last one yet so I'm not super-entirely sure it won't be seven chapters, anyways, I'm almost done with this so :)

After about thirty seconds of uncomfortable silence, Natasha decided to break it, but what she said didn’t really help him at all. “I’ll leave you to talk,” she said, giving Clint one last look and brushing against Bucky as she walked past him.

Being alone with Barnes was not really something that Clint wanted to do, but he could not see an outcome where he could get out of talking. It was not as if he never liked being with Barnes, hell, he was kind of in love with the man for a reason, but he didn’t want to do whatever the other man was doing, not there and then. His only relief was that at least Barnes didn’t seem ready to kill him, although he didn’t really look like he was about to go kiss him square in the mouth; he was wearing the same facial expression that had earnt him the nickname of Winter Soldier, absolutely emotionless. He was facing the situation like he faced business, and that simply couldn’t be good for the blond.

Clint was beginning to sweat. He had never been put in that situation and he didn’t know how to act, what to say. Actually, he wasn’t even sure what kind of s _ituation_ it was. No matter how much of a disaster Clint’s life was, he had never faced something like that – a mob boss making his heart shuffle and maybe kind of insinuating they needed to talk about feelings.  

When it got too much for him, Clint tried to tease, to go settle some kind of mood to their interaction and maybe not feel so terrified. “So you think it’s not dumb to be scared of you?” The teasing tone felt flat, and it didn’t make Barnes smile, but at least it was enough to make him talk.

“No. You said it, I’m one of the most dangerous men in New York,” he said, and just for a moment, Clint wondered if that was a threat. He had been threatened by Barnes before – it had happened before he had started to work only for him, back when he was a mercenary of sorts – and this didn’t feel like the same thing. Maybe he was just stating a fact. Anyways, Clint was too agitated to think normally, so far, he was going to take this as a potentially dangerous situation, just to be ready in case it went south.

He didn’t really know what to answer to that. “I don’t… What do you mean, then?” Clint asked, tensing just a fraction. He noticed that the other man didn’t miss it.

“I’m powerful, and dangerous. And I don’t know how much I have let you trust me,” Barnes started saying, and gave Clint a look that shut him up before he could interrupt. “I hope you can understand that if I ever made a move on you… Well, I wouldn’t know if I had accidentally coerced you.”

“That’s just ridiculous.”

“Is it?” Barnes tilted his head and Clint tensed again, only relaxing when he heard Lucky’s whine. “Is it ridiculous to thing that you would feel like something bad could happen to you if a powerful man made advances towards you and you rejected him?”

 “It is if it’s you. I also wouldn’t have rejected you,” Clint argued, his cheeks coloring fast.

“You never made a move either,” Barnes pointed out.

Clint looked back at the dog in his lap and shrugged. He hadn’t. He had been scared of rejection and what rejection could mean in his situation. But… Well, he wasn’t sure if this was Barnes saying that he also felt something for Clint or if he was just being rational. Clint really hated not knowing what was going on.

It wasn’t likely that Barnes was making a move on him now. He knew that maybe in another life they would have been friends – in a life where Bucky Barnes didn’t make legs tremble of fear all around New York and Clint didn’t work for him – but lovers? Well, that was too much wistful thinking. Barnes was friendly with him, just like with everybody. What he was doing was explaining himself. Clint simply couldn’t believe that this was Barnes saying he also felt something for Clint. He hadn’t even said something similar to that! Actually, all he had done was say that Clint had been right fearing his reaction. Yeah. That was it.

He cleared his throat, mentally nodding to himself. “So. What’s going to happen?” asked Clint, steeling both his voice and his mind. Best case scenario, Barnes would send him away. Worst case scenario… well, Clint could imagine that Barnes wasn’t going to kill him – or do something worse – after his whole speech.

“What would you want to happen,” his boss said. It felt so flat that it seemed like a statement.

Clint almost blurted out what he really wanted, a love story out of a film that was just unrealistic, instead, he groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, earth could swallow me any moment now. That’d be nice.” Sometimes Barnes did stuff that almost made you think he was able to read minds, and in that moment, Clint was glad to know that it wasn’t possible.

He heard Barnes take another step closer and when he looked up, he saw irritation crossing the man’s face – he had seen it too many times to not recognize it – so he prepared himself for the worst. “I also want you, Clint.”

What.

That… That was not the worst.

In what universe would someone like him want someone like Clint? He hadn’t heard it right, that had to be it. But, on one hand, Barnes was looking at him with vulnerable eyes. Which was something Clint had never seen.

“What” always so eloquent.

Barnes gave him a long look before he sighed and repeated himself. Clint was tempted to say what again, but he bit his lip to keep it inside. “I don’t get it,” he said instead, which wasn’t much better but at least it was different.

Barnes’ lips twitched. “What do you think I was talking about earlier?” he asked, then he shook his head, serious again. “Back when I first met you, I thought you were a great asset, but then you saved my life and I had to have you be a real part of this.” Barnes took a step closer. “Back when you didn’t work for me, I’d let my mind wonder.”

“You never said anything,” Clint muttered, and then wondered if everything that was going to leave his mouth was going to feel like the wrong thing to say.

The other man stopped for a moment, and then nodded. “As I said before,” he said pointedly, although his expression was almost soft, “it didn’t feel right. To try to… charm you.” Clint had to repress a snort, but at Barnes’ glare, he didn’t say anything about the super old-fashioned way of expressing it. “It didn’t feel right to tell you how I felt when you were under my charge. You said it, I’m a dangerous man and I’d hate it if you had felt forced to give me a change because you thought I would hurt you if you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that,” Clint said immediately, but he couldn’t be sure, could he? Even he, with his horrible sense of self-preservation, didn’t know if he would have faked something like that just so he didn’t make Barnes mad. If he had been any other person, Clint would be surely worried, but Barnes… Well, Barnes had a heart. And Clint had seen it.

“Look, I don’t know if you’d have, but I know that I would have been worried about it. But now… That I’ve heard what you said to Natasha… Well, if you weren’t lying, I would like to—”

Before he could finish that sentence, Cassie rushed into the room.

Clint got distracted with Cassie’s rushed talking – she had gone to the park with Scott and she had seen a lot of cute animals and she wished she had taken pictures so she could have shown him – and when he looks up, Barnes is gone from his room.

He manages to dodge his friends’ mother henning enough to actually get out of the mansion and go to his house back in Bed Study. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get better, but he had responsibilities, and even if he hadn’t, just lying in bed wasn’t Clint’s style. Clint’s style was more like lying in dumpsters, he recalled what Natasha would answer if he had told her that.

-

“So that happened and now I don’t know what to do,” Clint said, after he had finished retelling the whole story. The baby in his arms only looked up at him.

He had been begged by one of his tenants to act like a last-minute babysitter. It was a bad idea, who would leave their baby with someone from the mob? Well, no one, Melissa didn’t know that he worked in that field. She thought all he was was a landlord.

He sighed.

His phone started ringing and he didn’t have to look to know that it was Nat. He wasn’t stupid, he had left a note behind telling them that he would be back before ten and that they could wait to worry until then. It was barely half past eight and Clint wasn’t really in the mood to answer the phone. He let it ring and eventually turned it off.

He focused on playing with Daniel – the baby – and when Melissa came to get him, Clint smiled and faked tiredness when asked if there was something wrong with him. When his house was baby-free, he sighed for what felt like the hundredth time for the day and took a minute to breathe before he made his way back to the house.

He didn’t know why he was so scared of going back to the mansion. Barnes had told him he felt the same, he was also… infatuated. Whatever. He wondered what Nat would have said if he talked with her – not that he had any intentions of actually doing that – and a surprisingly good impression of her voice rang in his mind telling him that maybe what he found attractive about Barnes was that he was somewhat of an impossible man to get.

Clint had to physically stop when that thought came to his mind. No. It wasn’t that, he was still into Barnes, okay? He still was. But maybe… Maybe he was scared of change. Maybe he was afraid of fucking up – he always ended up fucking up – and while he knew that Barnes wasn’t the kind to go crazy because someone had wronged him personally… Well, Clint didn’t want to fuck up anyways.

He took a couple of breaths and admitted to himself that he had to face Barnes. He had to face the situation if he wanted to get anything out of it, which he absolutely did. So he needed to grow the fuck up.

He squared his shoulders and made what could have been the stupidest decision of his life. He sent Bucky his address.

-

Bucky took thirty minutes to get to Clint’s apartment and it was hell for both of them. Clint was’t sure what the hell had he been thinking when he had sent the address to the fucking mob boss that was Bucky Barnes, and said mob boss was at the blink of an eye of having a tachycardia. Neither of them could really believe that, after years of secrecy, Clint had just revealed his safe place like that.

“You’re an idiot,” Barnes said as soon as Clint opened the door.

“I know,” he answered, grabbing the door so he didn’t just fling himself towards Barnes. “I think we need to talk,” he said, and if Nat had been near, she would have been proud.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.”

For the first time, Clint was seeing the insecure face of Barnes’ personality. It actually did a lot to calm Clint’s nerves. Having a talk like the one they were going to have with someone treating the issue with the absolute nonchalance that he knew Barnes was capable of wasn’t Clint’s ideal way of doing feeling related stuff. It was good to see that he was dealing with a human with emotions. Clint mentally winced, maybe that was too harsh.

They relocated to the couch and Clint took a deep breath before taking the initiative. “So. You feel things for me.” Barnes looked at him funnily and nodded before snorting a laugh. “You don’t get to criticize my wording choice, Mr. I-couldn’t-charm-you.”

“I’m not criticizing anything. Please continue,” Bucky said, trying to keep a serious face, even if he was obviously containing his laugh.

Clint also tried to keep in a cackle and continued. “You have feelings for me. And I obviously have feelings for you.” Barnes nodded. “So what seems like the most obvious next step?”

“Date?” Barnes said hesitantly.

“I mean, it’s what would happen with any other person, right? You meet them, you like them, you go on a date.”

“It might be weird,” Barnes said.

It could be, Clint conceded. “Then we talk about it. We revaluate if needed. I know for sure you’re not going to, I don’t know, take revenge at me, and you know I’m not powerful enough, or whatever. So. We revaluate and see what our options are.” Look at that, Clint acting like a functioning human.

“I’m sorry did you just sound angry at the fact that you can’t take revenge on me?” Bucky asked with a laugh.

“It was actually sarcastic,” Clint answered sassily. “I can totally take you, no matter how much security you have.”

Barnes squinted at him for a moment and Clint wondered if he had said the wrong thing – then he wondered if he’d ever stop with that doubting himself all the time around Bucky – but then the other man smirked. “Sure you can.” And it sounded like a dare.

Both a date and a dare, it didn’t feel like Clint had done that badly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a LONG time to post this chapter, I'm sorry but for some reason I got stuck and I had to rewrite some parts and I don't know, it's a bit of a mess.
> 
> I've also realized that this has gone on a different path than the one I had planned and I might rewrite it/write another mob!bucky fic soon with what I had originally imagined - so basically, more about their relationship than how the got together? maybe it'd be a second part to this? idk yet - but I'm definitelly finishing this one and leaving it posted here. 
> 
> Also, in my original planning, this was going to be 6 chapters long, but I haven't written the last one yet so I'm not super-entirely sure it won't be seven chapters, anyways, I'm almost done with this so :)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I have absolutely no idea about how New York works because I've never been there, I'm not even american, soooooo, just, imagine it. OOC New York is now a thing. I can imagine biiiig houses are not like a really common thing in there (penthouses maybe, but I'm talking like full mansion here soooo) but just keep your mind open. I think the whole house thing works well with the mood of the fic and I'm also basing a lot of this stuff in what you see in the GOTHAM show, sooooooooooooooooooooooooo yeh. Hope you don't mind my ignorance!


End file.
